Hetalia Fairytales I: Masterman
by Kita Kitsune
Summary: A bored prince leaves home and is employed by a giant who assigns him chores, which he would undoubtedly fail at were it not for the aid of the house's resident sorcerer. : Oneshot AU, US/UK/US : Language, violence, boy love/BL.


Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, or any of its characters. Those belong to Himeruya Hidekaz-sensei, who made a lot more out of them than I ever could have. ^^;; I just do fanfiction for fun, and earn no monetary rewards for writing it. Reviews are, of course, worth as much as silver.

_Summary: A bored prince leaves home and is employed by a giant who assigns him chores, which he would undoubtedly fail at were it not for the aid of the house's resident sorcerer._

Title: Masterman

Word Count: 7,795

Page Count: 12

Anime: Hetalia  
Pairing(s): America/England, Canada/Ukraine, Spain/England, Prussia/England, France/England

Warning: Language, BL/boy love, violence

Author: Kita Kitsune (Call me Fox!)  
Date: Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Miscellaneous notes: "Mastermaid" is an old Norwegian folktale I've known since I was very young. The version I am most familiar with is from the book called _Tatterhood and Other Tales_, and I recently felt the urge to share the storyline with you all. I doubt many of you are familiar with this tale, but if you are I will certainly be tickled pink! It was one of my favorite ones growing up. It should be noted (and a bit obvious) that the character "Mastermaid" ("Masterman" in this fanfic) is actually a girl in the real version of this story.

Here's a link to the version of the story I used for a reference to write this fic (since I don't have my _Tatterhood_ book with me)~! [ h t t p : / / w w w . p i t t . e d u / ~ d a s h / n o r w a y 1 2 0 . h t m l ]

: : : : : : :

There was once a king who had many sons. Some were well-behaved, others were not, but the second-youngest of them was of the restless sort and soon declared he would leave home, bright blue eyes shining rebelliously. The others tried to convince him otherwise—especially his older twin, Canada (who loved him dearly), and his youngest brother, Sealand—but he would have none of it. He wandered for a few days, travelling, until he came upon a giant's house and fearlessly knocked upon the door.

"Hello! My name is America and I seek a job!" And so he was employed.

The next morning the giant, who had come to be called Russia, set out to herd his goats and directed a firm order to his new servant.

"You must clean the stable, today. When you have finished, you can do with your time as you like, because I am a kind master. When you are asked to do something you must do it well, and do not venture into any of the rooms besides the one you slept in last night or it will cost you your life." The giant said this all with a bright smile on his face, and bid America a cheerful farewell as he went off into the fields to do his work.

"I really do have an easy master!" America thought this to himself, humming a bit as he stared around his room. Cleaning the stable really wouldn't take so long, so he had some time before it needed to be done. Russia's odd last command came to his mind, though, and he laughed to himself. "Well, what fun would it be if I didn't go to take a peek! After all, it's only natural there must be something in those rooms he doesn't want me to see!"

In the first room he came to, there was a pot boiling on the wall with no fire beneath it. Curious, he plucked off a hair and stuck it in the oil. To his great astonishment, the strand turned to copper! He gaped for a moment, then laughed, tossing the metallic strand aside.

"Well, that would certainly be a hard dish to swallow!"

In the second room he came upon the same sort of pot, boiling without a fire beneath it, only this one turned his plucked strand of hair silver!

"What a rich palette Russia must have, to be able to stomach something so tasteless!"

In the third room he came upon yet another pot set up in the same manner as the last two and eagerly plucked another hair, dunking it in and laughing even harder when it came out gold!

"Well, this is a surprise! Gold is all well and good, but I wonder what he's cooking up in the next room!"

To his great surprise, in the fourth room there was not another pot, but a man sitting on a bench. There was a dark green cloak tied about his shoulders, and he seemed to be reading something. As America burst in the door he looked up, eyes bright and glittering like the jade he'd seen in his king father's vaults. They peeked out from beneath a fair-haired smattering of bangs, but had truly never seen eyes so lovely and in an instant was smitten silly.

"Oh, bloody hell, what are _you _doing in here?" The man had a strange accent, and the prince couldn't help but laugh, gaze flicking towards the man's very prominent eyebrows before he continued to stare into those wide, expressive eyes like they attracted his very soul.

"I just entered service with Russia, yesterday!" Those pretty eyes widened and the cloaked man snapped his book shut with a growling yell.

"Service, indeed! You'll be lucky to find a way out of it, you fool!" Grinning at the man's obvious irritation, America sidled up and leaned over the wooden table beside the man's bench, leering up at him and propping his head on his hands.

"It's not hard at all, considering he's a giant! I've only to clean out the stables and I'm finished for the day!"

To this the blond chuckled to himself, and leaned an elbow on the table, eying the blue eyes beneath him with a smirk.

"Ah, is that all? Yes, it's not a hard job—but for anyone who shovels the normal way it's quite a chore!" He waved a finger in America's face. "For every pitchfork-full you scoop out, ten more appear! But—I feel sorry for you." He poked America's nose at that last word, lips now curved into a conspiratorial smile. "If you scoop with the handle, everything will fly out of the stable by itself!"

"Then I'll just have to do it that way! Thank you! But tell me…" And he caught one of the man's hands in his own and smiled shyly up at him, here. "What is your name and from where do you come?"

They spent the day in each other's company and England—for that was the man's name—revealed that he was indeed the prince of a faraway land, and that his parents were great sorcerers. Russia had grown jealous of their prosperity and forced him to work here lest he kill his parents with brute force. He had no choice but to agree, but as the years passed and his parents died and his elder brothers ran the kingdom there was less and less reason for him to stay here. However, there was even less of a reason to venture out into the world when he had room and board with the giant for essentially free. They talked away the day and soon the sun began to set. It had taken not yet a full day, and already America was professing his undying love for England and begging him to marry him, but the blond just scoffed and pulled his hand away, waving it in a dismissing motion.

"It is getting late, you twit, and Russia will be back soon. You should go clean the stables before he returns!"

So America left, whistling happily to himself in the dusk air. He grabbed the pitchfork and went to the stables, and just to see if it would turn out the way England said it would he started to shovel with the pitchfork-end. In a minute he had to stop because suddenly the stable was so full of dung and dirtied straw that there was no room to stand! Turning the pitchfork around, and laughing to himself for doing it, he shoveled with the handle first and in a wink the stable was as clean as if he'd spent hours scouring every filthy surface with boiling water! England truly was a life-saver, for he couldn't imagine what would've happened to him if he'd tried to do the chore without his help!

Humming brightly to himself, America put the pitchfork away and ambled up to his room, collapsing back on the bed and thinking lovely thoughts of the green-eyed man just down the hall. He stayed like this until he heard the pounding of heavy footsteps and the door swung open, Russia beaming at him with a faucet pipe in his hand.

"America! Is the stable clean?" He sat up on his elbows, smiling up at his employer with a chirp and giving him a thumbs-up.

"Yes, it's completely spotless!" The giant's face fell, at that, and purple eyes blinked at him for a moment before Russia growled and turned, his scarf wafting out behind him.

"We'll see about that." Soon Russia returned, eyes glinting and angry even as his mouth was curved into a pleasant smile. His voice was low and ominous, though.

"You didn't think of this yourself. You've been talking to my Masterman, haven't you?" It was easy to play dumb, even though he could guess that Russia was referring to England, and America just stared up at the giant with another laugh.

"Masterman? What sort of thing is that, sir? I'd like to see one!" Russia eyed him suspiciously, but then smiled again, very sweetly.

"Well, no matter. You'll see him soon enough~"

The next day the giant set out with his goats, but not before he gave America his work to do for the day.

"My horse is out in the pasture grazing, so you must bring him back to the stable. After you bring him in you are free to do whatever you wish for the rest of the day. I am a kind master, after all. But if you go into any of the other rooms besides yours, I will rip your head off!" And so Russia departed, once more.

"You _are_ a kind master, but perhaps I'll have a chat with your 'Masterman'! Perhaps England would just as soon be mine as yours!" And so America trotted off to speak with him. Those bushy brows furrowed downwards as the green-eyed man looked up from his book only to once again see that infuriating grin. He scowled.

"Oh, it's you, you pillock. What has Russia assigned today?" America swaggered over and draped himself over the table again, blue eyes staring up at the other man in the way only lovestruck fools can.

"Nothing to be afraid of, this time! I've only got to go fetch his horse from the pasture!" One of England's brows quirked upward, at that.

"Oh? And how will you go about it?" Happy to have the man's attention, America puffed up like a rooster and lifted an arm to show off his muscles with a grin.

"Riding's not that hard, and I've ridden many a frisky horse before!" If there was a blush on England's cheeks at that statement he hid it well, looking away as he soundly whacked the prince on the head with his book. America winced, but his whines were soon drowned out.

"D-Don't be ridiculous, the task isn't as easy as all that!" Worried green eyes fell upon him then, and the blond bit his lip. "I'll tell you how to do it. When the horse comes up to you, it will be snorting fire and breathing flame. You see that bit by the door over there? You must throw it into his mouth and he will grow as docile as a baby lamb." He didn't like the fact that England looked so anxious, and so smiled reassuringly, reaching for the blond's hand, again. This time the man looked away, but didn't pull his hand back.

"I'll do that, then. But tell me… what are your hobbies, what keeps you occupied while you're here?" And so they spent another day in pleasant conversation. America once more professed his undying love, although softer and gentler than the day before and with earnest eyes that caused England to blush and change the subject quickly. He would've utterly forgotten about the horse had England not looked out the window at that moment, noticed it was late afternoon and looked towards him, urgently.

"We've spent the whole day talking of this nonsense, America! You must go fetch the horse before Russia returns!"

And so he left, taking the bit by the door with him on his way out. He wandered into the pasture, and sure enough soon he spotted the horse. When it saw him it let out a mighty puff of flame, but he took his time and waited for it to approach. Spewing fire and rearing back, it ran for him and opened its mouth. Seeing his chance, the prince tossed the bit right between its open jaws. Instantly it calmed down, smoke rising in the air around it as the horse blinked at him with eyes as sweet as a doe's. It certainly wasn't difficult to ride home after that and he easily put the animal in the stable. Afterwards he skipped to his room, singing happily to himself and lying on his bed until there was a pounding on his door and Russia entered, smiling towards him again with that same faucet pipe in hand.

"America! Did you bring my horse back as I asked you?" He beamed up at the giant.

"Yes, sir! It is a lovely horse to ride, and is waiting in the stable for you!"

"We'll see about that." And Russia hurried to check the stable—but, certainly, there was the horse standing calmly in its stall without an ounce of flame on its breath. He stomped back to the prince's room, face warring between a smile and utter rage.

"You've been talking to Masterman, again, haven't you. You couldn't have figured this out on your own." America just blinked at him stupidly, not giving away that the title meant anything to him and tilting his head to the side as he feigned simple-minded curiosity.

"Sir! Yesterday you talked of this Masterman, and today as well! Goodness! Won't you show me what it is? I would really like to see what all the fuss is about!" Russia's lips twitched, but the smallest and somehow scariest of smiles spread out over them, then.

"You'll get to see him soon enough."

On the third day Russia went out with his goats to the woods as usual, but not before giving America his chore for the day.

"Today my fire tax is due, so you must go to Hell and get it. When that is done you are free to do as you wish, because I am a kind master, after all." And away he went.

"Easy master, indeed! But yet you give me nothing but hard tasks! Well, I'll go and see your Masterman. You may claim he's yours, but I'll go and see if he won't tell me what to do!" So America went, but this time England wasn't reading. Indeed it looked as though the blond had been tapping his fingers on the tabletop rather nervously, and jumped, startled, when the door burst open.

"Y-You prat! You should really learn not to enter a room like that, it's bad for the doors!" America couldn't help it, he smiled grandly when he walked in, despite the rough greeting. England's eyes told him everything he couldn't say, and he was currently swimming atop that happy light of being in love. Sighing, the green-eyed man sat back on his bench, staring moodily at the fire a good ways away.

"So what did Russia ask you to do, this time?" He snuck a glance towards America from the corner of his eye. The taller boy was sprawled out on the table again, chin propped in his hands with a wide smile that threatened to split his face in twain.

"He wants me to go to Hell and collect his fire tax!" England blinked, and glanced towards him fully, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"And how will you go about that?" America laughed, rubbing the back of his head and looking away with a sheepish little grin.

"Ahh, you'll have to tell me, because I've never been to Hell in my entire life and I don't know the way nor how much to ask for!" America heard a snort, then felt a hand on his cheek, and so looked up with a blink. England was gazing at him, a weird little upward curve at one corner of his lips making his expression a tad lop-sided.

"Don't worry, I'll tell you." The blond patted his cheek before withdrawing his hand and getting down to business, leaning over the table and gazing into America's blue eyes seriously. "You know that steep cliff over beyond the pasture? Take that club lying there and knock on the face of the cliff. Someone who is glowing with fire will step out, and you must tell him your errand. When he asks how much you must say 'As much as I can carry'. Do you understand?" America nodded, but again noticed the worried look in England's eyes and smiled kindly, reaching over to cup the sides of the other man's face and pull him close. He gently kissed his cheeks, then propped his forehead and nose against England's, blue eyes warmly fixed on green ones.

"I'll do that, then, thank you England. But tell me… wouldn't you like to get married and go away together? Just the two of us?" Surprisingly he managed to dodge the swing aimed at him for that and just laughed, and spent the rest of the day assuring England that he'd do his best to make it happen. They talked of other things and when England warned him it was getting late, America cupped his cheeks again and gave him a kiss on the forehead along with a smile. The prince winked as he dashed out the door with a laugh and just scarcely avoided getting hit in the head by the blond's flying book as he disappeared.

So America went to the cliff, found the club, and knocked on the cliff face just as he'd been told. Not a moment later there was a crack in the rock, and from it emerged a person whose face was all aglow and whose nostrils spouted fire. America smiled. England had been right, as always. The devil scrutinized him for a moment.

"What do you want?"

"I come from the giant, Russia, who has sent me to collect his fire tax!"

"How much do you need?"

"I never ask for more than I can carry." The devil grumbled to himself, turning to head back into the cliff.

"Lucky you did not ask for a whole horse-load. Come inside, then, and get it." So the prince followed after him, beholding a great cavern full of silver and gold and many treasures laid out like pebbles in a gravel pit. He gathered only so much as he could carry in a bag slung over his back and headed back to the giant's home. Humming a little to himself, the prince placed the sack on the bench beside the table in his bedroom and flopped down on the bed. He smiled goofily at the ceiling, imagining all of the things England and he would do once they were free of the giant. For surely it would be soon! He stared at the ceiling, lost in his daydreaming until he heard hard footsteps coming towards his room. The prince propped himself up on his elbows as the door swung open and there stood Russia, smiling yet again with the water faucet pipe in his hand.

"America! Have you been to Hell to collect my fire tax?" He saluted a little, beaming winningly.

"Yes, sir! It's right there on the bench!" And he gestured respectfully. The giant's face darkened.

"We'll see about that." And Russia strode over to the bag, pulling open the drawstring. All of the gold and silver spilled out onto the floor, it was so full, and the giant turned around slowly, purple eyes eerie and glowing with intimidation.

"You've been talking to my Masterman, that I can clearly see, and if you have I'll rip your head off!"

"Masterman! Yesterday you talked of this Masterman and today again, and the day before yesterday as well! I only wish I knew what sort of thing he is, sir!" Russia looked at him, a wide, innocent smile sneaking onto his face although it didn't reach the giant's demented gaze as he murmured meaningfully, striding from the room with his scarf billowing out behind him.

"Just wait until tomorrow, America. I will take you to see him." The prince grinned towards his ceiling, calling out a response that Russia should just be able to hear down the hall.

"Thank you very much, sir, but I'll bet you're only joking!"

: : :

The next day the giant took him to Masterman.

"You must cut his throat, and boil him in the great big pot, you know the one I mean, and when the stew is ready call for me." Then the giant lay down on the bench for a nap and snored so loudly it sounded like thunder in the mountains.

For a moment England and the prince looked at one another, and then the sorcerer took a knife from the wall. The prince's eyes went wide and he began to back away, but stopped when he saw that the green-eyed man had paused as well, frowning towards him, those mighty brows creased together.

"Do you not trust me, after all I have helped you with?" At that America felt ashamed and nodded, and walked back over to England with a shaky smile.

"I-I do. I love you, England. I trust you."

"S-Stupid git. Now's not the time for such things." All business despite the rosy tint that'd taken to his cheeks, England grabbed the prince's hand and cut him in his little finger, letting three drops of blood fall on a wooden stool. After that he took all the old rags and soles of shoes and all the rubbish he could find and dumped them into the pot. He then filled a chest full of ground gold and took a lump of salt, and a flask of water that hung behind the door as well as a feather, a comb and a golden apple and two golden chickens. Off they went, then, Masterman and the prince, fleeing from the giant's house as fast as their legs could carry them!

The giant, meanwhile, stretched out on the bench and called out to the room sleepily.

"Will it soon be done?" The first drop of blood on the stool answered him.

"Only just begun!"

So Russia went back to sleep for a while. Then he began to toss a little and yelled.

"Well? Will it soon be done?" But this time too he was half-asleep and so did not open his eyes or look around. And the second drop of blood answered him.

"Half-done!"

The giant thought it was Masterman answering, so he turned over and slept again. After many hours he stirred and stretched and called out.

"Isn't it done yet?" And the third drop of blood answered him.

"Done to a turn!"

So Russia yawned cutely and sat up, rubbing at his eyes, but he couldn't see where the voice had come from. He looked up, blinking his purple eyes and called for Masterman, but there was no answer.

"Well, he's probably gone outside for a bit." Eager to taste the stew, the giant got up and grabbed a spoon, heading over to the pot. But there was nothing but shoe soles and rags and such stuff all boiled up together in a great big ugly mess! As soon as Russia saw this he realized what had happened. He became so angry he snapped his faucet-pipe in half!

In a flash he was after Masterman and the prince. He caught up with them before they could reach the sea and America cried out in alarm, but England stayed calm, muttered a few words and tossed the wooden comb behind them. It grew into a huge, dense forest that Russia couldn't pass through. As they reached the shore England quickly blew the feather onto the rough waters. It immediately transformed into a light sailboat and they hopped aboard.

Not to be deterred, the giant summoned his forest-smasher and had it demolish the trees. The pair had just gotten a good ways away when Russia burst out onto the shore, glaring around for them. He spotted them and used his magic to call his water-sucker to take big gulps of the ocean causing the level to drop. After the third gulp he could see England and America and started to go after them. Seeing this, England quickly called to America.

"The lump of salt, throw it out!" And he did, and a huge wall of a mountain sprang up that prevented the water-sucker from sucking any more water and the giant from climbing over it. Now the giant was smart, and had his own brand of magic, and summoned his hole-borer who drilled a hole through the mountain. Just as the water-sucker was getting ready to take one last big gulp and empty the sea England again hollered to America.

"Quickly now, pour a drop or two from the flask!" And the prince did so and the water in the ocean swelled back to its normal levels. Russia screamed at the water-sucker to suck in more water but he was full and could not drink any more. So the pair landed on the other shore and got away from the giant safely.

After their escape they decided to return to America's home. They had walked for a bit and had reached the outskirts of America's father's kingdom when the prince stopped and placed a hand on England's shoulder. The jade-eyed man blinked up at him, his dark green cloak still hanging from his shoulders.

"We can't just walk up there like this. It's an unbefitting introduction for my future wife!" He laughed as he dodged a swing, and caught the sorcerer's fist and dragged him close, sliding an arm around the blond's slender waist with a bright smile. "Come now, England!" He entwined their fingers, kissing each of the man's bony knuckles and chuckling when he blushed. "Let me go on ahead and get horses and a carriage so we might enter my home not as beggars, but princes!" Those greener-than-green eyes widened and the sorcerer's free hand caught in his shirt, shaking him a bit.

"No, no! You can't go back to your father's home alone, you will forget me!" Blue eyes widened before the prince laughed and managed, despite their ordeal that day, to pick the shorter man up and twirl him around.

"England, no! How could I ever forget you, when we have been through so much together and love each other so?" The blond blushed and ducked his head, and here America frowned softly and put him down, a hand resting on his waist while the other went up to his chin, gently forcing the blond to look at him. "England?" Those green eyes wouldn't meet his, and his frown grew more pronounced, more worried. "England? You love me, right?" Ah, then there it was, jade had locked on his own gaze and a slimmer hand was on his cheek and the sorcerer was leaning up and so he leaned down and—

"D-Don't act so… s-so—you idiot, of course I—" And then there were no more words, and they kissed, and it was too obvious how each of them felt. But even despite that, America would not relent and stubbornly held out that he must go to his father's house ahead of them so as to bring a carriage back to properly have England ride in. They argued, but then hours passed and the sun was setting, so at last England agreed, but only by laying forth a few conditions. His hands curled tightly into the front of America's shirt, eyes earnest and voice insistent.

"If you must go, then go, but you must go straight to the stable and prepare the horses! Do not take the time to greet anyone as they will swarm around you, but you must pay them no mind, act as though they were not there and come right back! Above all else you must not eat or drink anything or we shall both suffer much misery! Do you hear me, you daft, stubborn fool? Come _right back here_, do not—" He was cut off with another kiss, this one chaste and reassuring as a strong hand carded through his hair. They pulled back moments later and America leaned his forehead on England's and smiled down at him, moving the hand not curved around the sorcerer's waist to squeeze one of the ones clutched to the fabric on his chest.

"I know. I get it, okay England? I won't forget you, I love you. You just wait right here and tonight we'll be in some cozy beds in my father's castle!" And so it was reluctantly that England let him go, and sat on a rock under a tree by the road, watching until America was out of sight. When the prince was gone he looked away from the path, mumbling softly to himself and tugging his cloak tighter around him.

"I foresaw that you would forget me if you returned to your father's house, America." And something in his chest ached at that realization, but perhaps—perhaps he would be proven wrong, and the prince would heed his words well.

When he reached the palace it was the case that his older twin brother, Canada, was getting married to a princess named Ukraine. Now, all the bride's family had gathered for the occasion and they swarmed around America, trying to get him to come in with them but he ignored them all and walked past them as though they were not even there. He got to the stable and began to prepare the horses. When the family saw that he would not come in with them they instead brought out meat and drink and offered it to him, but still the prince paid it no mind, would not take anything and said nothing, only continuing to harness the horses as quickly as he could. It was at this point the bride's sister spoke up and rolled an apple across the yard.

"If you will not take anything else, at least take a bite of this, for you must be both hungry and thirsty after your long journey." And so, unthinking, America picked up the apple and had scarcely gotten it in his mouth when he forgot all about England and his role as Masterman and the giant. He looked around and laughed.

"Why, I must be mad! What am I doing, saddling up these horses?" And so he put the horses back in their stalls and went in with the bride's family to celebrate his brother's wedding. Soon after it was decided that he would marry the bride's sister, Belarus, who was the one who had rolled him the apple.

: : :

By the side of the road, England waited. He waited and waited until the sun set and night fell and then sun rose again the next morning. When he had determined that America had indeed fallen under a spell he sighed and stood, and wandered into town. If he could not be married to the man, at least he could live in the same kingdom. Or so he thought, until he walked and walked and came upon a hut in a small grove of trees by the king's palace. He smiled up at the castle walls, hoping that America would be happy behind them somewhere, before he moved to knock on the door of the hut. An old man answered, peering at him grumpily. At first he would not allow England to stay there, but after a few kind words and an agreement to pay high rent, he was allowed. So England stepped inside, and wrinkled his nose at the unkempt and dirty surroundings. The entire inside of the hut was near-black! He took out his chest of gold and threw a handful into the fire. The gold boiled and bubbled and spread all over the hut, turning it into a lovely house gilded and plated with gold, both outside and in.

The grumpy old man had jumped up when the gold started to boil and ran out of the house. But he was in such a rush he crashed his head against the doorframe on his way out and died, right there. Nothing could be done.

The next morning the constable, called Spain, walked by and couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the shining gold hut where there had been a rundown shack only the night before. He went inside and gasped when he saw such a lovely creature, as England's form was so slight and his hood drawn down over his eyebrows, hiding them from view. But still his flaxen hair, pale skin and green eyes could be seen beneath his hood. Spain rushed forward, clasping one of England's hands in his own as he cried out, instantly stricken with love.

"Oh, would that you would marry me, I would die a happy man!" The Masterman didn't miss a beat, fighting down the urge to smirk.

"Very well, but do you have a lot of money?" The constable assured him that he had plenty, and went to fetch it from home. In the evening he returned with a half-bushel sack filled with money. England agreed that he was rich enough and agreed to marry him. They went to bed together but had hardly lain down before England said he must get up again, because he had forgotten to bank up the fire. Spain was quick to stop him, though.

"Please don't get up, I'll take care of it!" The constable jumped out of bed and ran to the hearth.

"Tell me when you have a hold of the poker?" England queried.

"I'm holding it now."

"Then may you hold the poker and the poker hold you, and may you heap burning hot coals over yourself until morning." So the constable had to stand there all night long, shoveling hot coals over himself. Spain begged and prayed and wept, but none of this made the burning coals any colder. As soon as day broke and he was finally able to rid himself of the poker, he set off as though the bailiff or the devil were after him. Everyone who met him stared at him, for he acted like a madman and looked like he had been flayed and tanned. They wondered what had happened to him, but he was too ashamed to tell anyone.

The next day the clerk, called Prussia, passed by the golden hut and was enraptured by it and went inside to find out who lived there. England turned to greet the stranger, furrowing his brows in annoyance.

"What the hell? Another one? Get out of my house!" When Prussia heard England's irritation and saw his lack of fear (despite his red eyes) he fell even more in love with him than the constable had, and rushed forward and embraced him, grinning down at the squirming blond with a booming, joyful laugh.

"Oh, would that you would marry me, I would die an awesome man!" The Masterman responded to him just as he had the constable, asking if he had a lot of money. The clerk replied that he was wealthy enough, and returned in the evening with a whole bushel of money. England agreed that he was rich enough and agreed to marry him. They went to bed together but had hardly lain down before England said he must get up again, because he had forgotten to close and lock the door for the night. Prussia was quick to stop him, though.

"Please don't get up, I'll take care of it!" The clerk jumped out of bed and ran out into the hallway.

"Tell me when you have a hold of the knob?" England queried.

"I'm holding it now."

"Then may you hold the door and may the door hold you, and may you go back and forth until morning." So the clerk had to dance the whole night through. He never experienced such a waltz before, and would not want to experience such a waltz again. Prussia pulled the door one way, and then the door pulled him back the other, and so it went on and on. First he was dashed into one corner of the hallway, and then into the other, until he was almost battered to death. At first he cursed and swore, then he begged and prayed, but the door cared for nothing but holding its own until the break of day. As soon as it let him go, the clerk ran off, leaving his money behind to pay for his night's lodging, and forgetting his courtship altogether because he was too afraid the door might come dancing after him! Everyone who met him stared and looked after him, for he was flying like a madman, and he could not have looked worse if a herd of rams had been butting at him all night long.

On the third day the sheriff, called France, passed by, and he too saw the golden hut and went inside to find out who lived there. He had barely set eyes on England before he began to woo him, going down on one knee and taking the Masterman's hand, kissing the back of it charmingly and offering him a sweet-smelling rose.

"Oh, would that you would marry me, I would die a rich man!" The Masterman responded to him just as he had the constable and the clerk, asking if he had a lot of money. The sheriff replied that he was quite well-off, and returned in the evening with a whole bushel and a half of money. England agreed that he was rich enough and agreed to marry him. They went to bed together but had hardly lain down before England said he must get up again, because he had forgotten to bring his calf in from the meadow and would have to drive him into the stall for the night. France was quick to stop him, though.

"Please don't get up, I'll take care of it!" The sheriff jumped out of bed, quite nimbly for a noble unused to manual labor, and ran out into the yard.

"Tell me when you have a hold of the calf's tail?" England queried.

"I'm holding it now."

"Then may you hold the calf's tail and may the calf's tail hold you, and may you tour the world together until morning." The race began at once. They went over high and low, across hill and dale, he and the calf, and the more France wailed and begged, the faster the calf ran and jumped. By dawn the poor sheriff had nearly collapsed, and he was so glad to be able to let go of the calf's tail that he forgot his sack of money and everything else. He was not a large man, but quite out of shape and he went home a little slower than the clerk and the constable had done, and the slower he went the more time people had to gape and stare at him, and I must say they made good use of their time, for he was terribly tattered and torn from his dance with the calf.

: : :

The next day the wedding was to take place at the palace, and America's older brother Canada was to drive to the church to marry his new wife Ukraine, and America was to marry her sister, Belarus. But when they had all seated themselves in the carriage one of the trace pins broke and though they made one, two and three to put in its place that did not help for each broke in turn, no matter what kind of wood they used. This went on for a while, and they could not get away from the palace, so they were all very upset and unhappy. Then Spain, the constable, piped up (for he had been invited to the wedding).

"In that grove over yonder lives a man who has a fireplace poker, and if you can only get him to lend it to you, I know very well that it will hold."

So the guards went to the Masterman's house and begged and pleaded with England to lend them the poker. And they were so nice about it he only said 'yes' and let them take it. And so they had an unbreakable trace-pin and went on their way. But they had not gotten too far when the bottom of the coach fell apart. Naturally, they set to make a new one as best they could, but however many nails or whatever kind of wood they used, it always broke just as soon as they drove off, so it was even worse than when they had broken the harness-pin. Then the clerk, Prussia, piped up (for you can be sure if the constable was there, the clerk was there, too).

"In that grove over yonder lives a man, and if you can only get him to lend half of his outside door to you, I know very well that it would hold together."

So another very polite message was sent to the Masterman's house to borrow the door. They were so nice about it that England only said 'yes' and they got it right away. So they were just setting out, but now the horses were not strong enough to pull the carriage with the poker and the golden door added-on, so they added more horses to the original six until they had eight, and then ten, and twelve, but the coach still wouldn't move at all. By this time it was getting late in the day and everyone was rather unhappy with all the delays in getting the two princes to church to be married. Then France, the sheriff, piped up.

"In that grove over yonder lives a man, and if you can only borrow his calf, I know it could pull the coach even all around the world."

Well, they all thought it would look rather silly for the carriage to be pulled by one little calf, but there was nothing for it so they had to send a message a third time. They asked again, very politely in the king's name, if they could borrow the calf the sheriff had spoken of and England let them have it on the spot because he wasn't going to refuse them this time, either. So they put the calf on the coach and it took off at a good clip and pulled them over high and low and stock and stone so fast sometimes they were on the ground and sometimes up in the air and America was laughing at the ride even as his brother Canada clung to his soon-to-be wife and she to him as though they would die before reaching the church. Belarus merely sat quietly with her hands in her lap, staring out at the scenery that bounced before them. When they made it to the church the calf started running around the building in circles and they had a hard time getting out of the coach and into the church, where Canada and Ukraine as well as America and Belarus were at last married. The way home was even faster, and it seemed like no sooner had they set out then they arrived.

As they sat down to the celebration dinner, America said that they ought invite the generous man who had lent them his poker, his door and his calf, to come up to the feast.

"For if we hadn't gotten these three things, we would still be sitting outside, stuck here!"

Now the king thought this was right and fair, so he sent five of his best men down to the golden hut to greet the man and ask England if he wouldn't be so kind as to come and dine at the palace. England only greeted them with a smile and pulled the hood of his dark green cloak over his face and turned around to head back into his home.

"Send the king my greetings, and tell him if he's too good to come to me, then I am too good to go to him."

So the king had to go and meet England himself and England went back to the palace with him immediately. Now the king, besides being honest and fair, was also smart and realized that the blond was more than he appeared. As such, the king sat him down in the highest seat by the side of the youngest bridegroom, America.

After sitting a little while at the table, the Masterman took out his golden apple, and the two golden chickens which he had carried off from the giant and put them down on the table before him. At once they began to peck at each other, fighting over the golden fruit. America stared down at the odd sight, then laughed, glancing towards England with a funny, confused look on his face.

"Just look and see how those two are struggling for the apple!" The green-eyed man watched him for a moment, then only smiled sadly as he looked away and spoke very quietly, almost to himself.

"Yes, just as we two had to struggle to escape from the giant."

And then America's blue eyes widened as the spell was broken and he recognized him again.

"England!" And he tackled the poor chuckling sorcerer to the ground, hugging the life out of him and breathing choked sobs as he gazed down at him. "Oh, oh, England!" And the blond _was_ laughing, but there were sad tears sliding down his face towards his ears from where he lay on his back on the floor, as well, and America let out another sob and leaned down to cup his cheeks and kiss him, all the while murmuring the Masterman's name against his lips. "England, England, how could I forget you…" A trembling hand rose up through his hair, petting at it as a shaken voice whispered to him between kisses, a soft arm lifting to curl tentatively around the small of the prince's back.

"It's… not your fault, you dolt. It was a spell—"

And then it was revealed that Belarus was really not Ukraine's sister at all and had really been hired by the giant, Russia, to go after England and America and make their lives miserable. But no one knew what became of her in the end because at that moment she threw an egg down from the table which plunged the room into darkness as it hit and by the time it had cleared the wicked woman had gone and escaped. Presumably back to the giant, but then no one ever knows what witches will do, do they?

But then, no one really cared about her. And Ukraine was perfectly nice and good and lived quite happily with Canada. And America and England celebrated their wedding at long last, no matter that they hadn't been to church, because Belarus had run off as soon as she was discovered so that marriage was clearly void. And Spain the constable, Prussia the clerk and France the sheriff all found their own ways, as well.

: : :

_Goodness, I love this folk tale! What'd you guys think? Should I do more of these fairytales? :3_

_This took longer to write than I thought it would. x.x Reviews would make me really happy~! -Fox_


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